


Mending

by thatfangirl



Category: Code Name Verity - Elizabeth Wein
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, F/F, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-07
Updated: 2014-02-07
Packaged: 2018-01-11 11:12:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1172359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatfangirl/pseuds/thatfangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>"You're all right," they kept whispering back and forth, Julie sounding only slightly more delirious.</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mending

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [kayla_bird](http://kayla-bird.tumblr.com) for her suggestions. Written for the 2014 [poetry_fiction](http://poetry-fiction.dreamwidth.org) challenge:
> 
> Someone's been up here nights,  
> and in a hurry,  
> breaking the headstones.
> 
> And someone else,  
> with a little time to spare,  
> has mended them;
> 
> — Ted Kooser  
> "In a Country Cemetery in Iowa" (excerpt)

"Kiss me, Hardy! Kiss me, _quick!_ "

And she shot her.

*

The bullet ripped through Julie, into the guard's arm: his pistol and her body fell.

Pandemonium. Mitraillette opened up, and Paul took the opportunity to finally launch his attack.

Maddie's mind was blank. As soon as Mitraillette had cut down the Germans, she was up and running toward Julie's flame-colored jumper, and all the red, red blood pooling around her head.

But amid the gunfire at the rear of the caravan was another sound: Julie's high, hysterical laughter.

*

Julie had lost so much weight that Maddie had no trouble carrying her to the boats, where she tried to stop the bleeding while Mitraillette rowed. Afraid to jostle Julie by removing her jumper, Maddie unbuttoned her own shirt and pressed it against the side of Julie's head—no, not her head, her ear. Maddie had shot off her ear.

"You're all right," they kept whispering back and forth, Julie sounding only slightly more delirious.

At the boathouse, Julie exclaimed at the groundskeeper and they began to converse rapidly in French. Maddie couldn't follow their conversation, but she did catch the word _grande-tante_ and Julie's repeated _non, non_. Once the boats were stowed, she and Julie dropped to sleep braided together. In the morning, Julie was installed in the Thibauts' hayloft; Maddie, deciding that cousin Käthe had returned to Alsace, joined her.

She lay beside Julie, taking in the purple and green of fresh and healing bruises, the red and pink where she had been restrained or burnt, and the white bandage around her head. For the first time, Maddie was afraid to touch her.

"Your nails!" Julie exclaimed, grabbing her hands, and Maddie realized that she had bitten them down to the quick while watching the tableau on the bridge. Julie brought the ragged fingertips to her lips, kissing them better.

"Julie," Maddie said. It was all she could say as she dissolved into gulping sobs. "I'm sorry," she finally managed. "You're the one who has reason to cry."

"Only because I'm so happy," Julie insisted, and her eyes were a little wet.

"What they did to you..."

"Oh, don't worry," Julie said imperiously and pecked Maddie on the lips. "Those bloody Nazi bastards will get theirs shortly."

Carefully, they exchanged salty kisses. "I was so _scared_ ," Maddie whispered, not specifying when. Maybe every moment since Julie had jumped from the plane.

"I thought you were dead," Julie confessed, and Maddie realized that she had been shown the burnt ATA wings.

"I'm not dead."

"No," Julie agreed, and the touch of her tongue to Maddie's was electric.

*

Julie had not been speaking in generalities when she had proclaimed that the Ormaie Gestapo would soon receive its comeuppance. When she told Mitraillette her plan, Maddie liked everything about it except Julie's participation: "It's too dangerous."

"This whole country is too fucking dangerous!" Julie exploded, and Maddie couldn't argue with that.

Mitraillette picked up the key from Engel, the RAF agreed to a bombing run, and Julie went on the raid, although she remained on the ground floor of the hotel. Above, Maddie saw the cells and blood, and thought, _This is where they hurt her_ , where the layers of bruises and burns had been made. It was quite satisfying, to see it all blown to hell.

Afterward, Maddie made love to Julie as though she were spun glass, and she knew that Julie felt as bad as she looked when she didn't protest the gentle treatment. The next night, they stood at the edge of a field, ears straining to catch the whine of a Lysander's engine. When it finally appeared, gray metal against black sky, Julie squeezed Maddie's fingertips, her teeth shining in a grin. The stubby plane bounced to a halt, and the two Beaufort-Stuarts flew into each other's arms, embracing obliviously as the Lysander was unloaded and repacked.

Jamie offered the yoke to Maddie, but she elected to stay with Julie. After an age of floating in inky darkness, Maddie finally saw starlight reflected on choppy water. Then, unfurling beneath them: England, England, England.

*

Maddie was the only passenger to disembark at Castle Craig station. She carried her rucksack the miles to the castle, and then knocked on the oak-and-iron door. Two of the Craig Castle Irregulars pushed it open, jabbering a welcome.

She found Julie in the smaller of the two libraries, her lady mother sitting nearby. Maddie hadn't seen Lady Beaufort-Stuart since meeting Jamie as an invalid in a Bath chair, and the woman wore the same look now.

"Your hair!" Maddie exclaimed by way of greeting.

Julie struggled to get up. "Maddie! Why didn't you tell me when you'd be getting in? I'd have come down to meet you." Maddie was keenly aware of Lady Beaufort-Stuart, who had set aside her knitting, but Julie draped her arms around Maddie and quickly pressed a kiss to her neck. "And my hair was too matted to save," she said dismissively. "How long are you up for? Your letter didn't say."

"As long as you'll have me," Maddie said; then added belatedly, "I mean, as long as it's convenient for the household, Lady Beaufort-Stuart."

"Forever, then!" Julie replied before her mother could.

Lady Beaufort-Stuart smiled. "Stay as long as you like, Maddie."

"Thank you, Lady—Esmé," she corrected belatedly.

"Let's get you settled," Julie said, nudging Maddie from the room. She chivvied Maddie into the nearest washroom and kissed her as the door closed. Maddie placed a careful hand on Julie's shorn head, trying to avoid the bandage.

"Now, what's this about staying indefinitely?" Julie asked once she had finished greeting Maddie. "You didn't—you did. You left the ATA!"

Maddie felt obscurely guilty. It wasn't that she had lied, she had just...neglected to mention that detail. She shrugged. "They wouldn't let me go." When she had been denied a leave of absence, she had lost her temper spectacularly and reminded them that she was a civilian, not a WAAF, and resigned. Then had come the cold, panicky feeling as she realized that meant no more flying, but she tried to remember that she had known this day would come when the war was over. Hers had just ended a little early.

"Oh, Maddie-darling." Julie looked like she wanted to say more, but she only nodded and led her upstairs.

*

Julie insisted that Maddie share her room, promising, "Mother will understand; I get nightmares."

"Nightmares?"

"Yes, of course." She motioned Maddie toward the vanity. At the edge of the mirror was a nearly-empty bottle of French perfume, a silver-backed hair brush, and fresh bandages. "Help me with this?"

Maddie watched in mute horror as Julie unwound the bandage from her head. The top of her ear was torn off, and there was a shiny burn along her skull.

"You've disfigured me," she teased. "I'll never find a husband now—oh, Maddie, don't cry, don't cry," she soothed, getting up from the vanity. "I only meant—well, as a Yank would say, you break it, you bought it."

"I could have killed you," Maddie sobbed. "I _tried_ to kill you."

"I know," Julie said, wrapping her arms around Maddie. "I asked you to."

"And then you would be dead, and for what? For nothing!"

"Not for nothing. If you hadn't shot me, I would have disappeared, and you would never have known what became of me." She stared intently into Maddie's eyes. "But you would have known that I had asked you for something I needed desperately, and you had refused me."

Maddie sobbed harder at that. "In my nightmares, when I run to you, you're not laughing, your face is gone, I..."

"Shh." Julie rubbed circles into Maddie's back. "It's all right. From now on, I'll be here when you wake up. You can wake me, even, though I don't promise to be in a very good humor."

Maddie chuckled wetly. "Don't worry, I won't interrupt your beauty sleep."

"Good; I need it now more than ever."

There was an edge there, Maddie realized. "You are beautiful," she said fiercely, "and until your hair grows out, you'll be dashing." She used one of the bandages to wipe her face, and then took up a clean one. "Now, let me help you."

*

A noise. Maddie blinked; the room was as dark as the inside of her eyelids. The noise again: Julie, distressed, limbs locked and twitching. "Julie," she whispered, "Julie—"

A fist slammed into her shoulder, and Julie shouted awake.

"You're home," Maddie reassured her. "I'm here. You're all right."

"Oh, Maddie." She pulled Maddie to her convulsively, mashing her face against Maddie's neck. Eventually, she lifted it to ask, "I'm sorry, darling. Did I hurt you?"

"No." Maddie hoped her shoulder wouldn't bruise. She was lucky it hadn't been her face.

Julie flopped back onto her side of the bed. "I _am_ sorry."

Maddie reached out and twined their fingers together. "You don't have to apologize."

"No," Julie agreed, her expression turning sly, "but I want to."

*

Maddie awoke to the sun on her face. Fragments surfaced of Julie kissing her goodbye before starting her day. She stretched and rubbed her eyes, feeling loose-limbed and refreshed for the first time since France.

The castle's massive kitchen was cold and empty, but she enjoyed a cup of tea and a slice of toast before wandering back upstairs. She found Julie in the billiards room, overseeing a game that all of the evacuees were somehow playing at once.

"Good morning, darling." Julie gestured toward the unused carom billiards table. "Care for a game? I should warn you that my brothers taught me well."

Contrary to her boast, Julie struggled to defeat her, as though her body wouldn't execute her commands. She shrugged off the difficulty and peppered their play with anecdotes from her childhood, like the time that Jamie went sunbathing on the roof and got stuck to the tar paper, or when she climbed inside the hall clock, and how earsplitting but satisfying it was to be there when it struck twelve. 

"I shouldn't have said that in front of you lads, should I?" Julie added resignedly when she noticed they were listening raptly. "Very well, let me tell you about the ghost..."

*

Maddie gasped awake. Then she recognized the arms around her. She twisted to face Julie, inventorying eyes, nose, dandelion tufts of hair, most of an ear, alive, gloriously alive.

Julie was speaking, promising, "You're all right," and Maddie was answering, amazed, "You're all right."

*

"Close the door!"

Maddie pulled it shut behind her, heart hammering. "What—?" Julie was at her roll-top desk, where she appeared to be carving a block of wood. Maddie waited for her breathing to slow before she approached, asking more gently, "What are you up to?"

"Making the lads toy cars for Christmas." Julie indicated her penknife. "I nicked this from Jamie's room. I was never allowed to have one. Unladylike. Or maybe it was because I'm the youngest. Goddamn sodding son of a bloody _bastard_ —"

Maddie grabbed a bandage from the vanity and held it to Julie's cut. "Or maybe it's because you can't be trusted to play with knives without hurting yourself."

"Ha-ha. My _hand_."

"There, there," Maddie soothed as she tied another bandage around the first, and then kissed the hand better. "Want me to take over for a while? Granddad gave me a pocket knife for my twelfth birthday and I've yet to injure myself with it."

Julie gave up her seat. "Please." She regarded her bandaged palm. "Will you still love me, now that I'm maimed?"

Maddie rolled her eyes but said sincerely, "I'll always still love you."

*

"For auld lang syne, my jo," Julie and her mother were singing sweetly, "for auld lang syne." None of the Beaufort-Stuart men had leave, so New Year's Eve was an intimate affair, as Christmas had been. Lady Beaufort-Stuart had done her best to make it festive: the drawing room was decorated with leftover tinsel, and she had even uncorked a bottle of champagne, claiming that it would only turn to vinegar if they kept waiting to drink it. The adults all had a flute, while the boys each had a thimbleful, and Julie topped off her and Maddie's glasses every time the chorus proclaimed, _We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet_.

"And there's a hand, my trusty fiere!" Julie continued, grabbing Maddie's hand. "And gie's a hand o' thine!" She grabbed the other and swung them to and fro. "We'll tak a right gude-willy waught, for auld lang syne."

Maddie she couldn't parse the Scots, but she joined in for the final chorus. Julie whispered against her ear, "Welcome to 1944. Nowhere to go but up."

*

Of course, for Maddie, there was no more going up. She rambled through the castle grounds, trying to quiet the itching under her skin. Then, at the end of January, Julie dragged her to an outbuilding, bubbling, "Happy belated Hanukkah, darling!"

Inside was a distinctive shape under a drop-cloth. Maddie felt her hands twitch around invisible handlebars. "You didn't." She whipped off the cloth.

"Not exactly a Silent Superb," Julie commented, "and she doesn't run yet, but I know you can fix her." She held out a lumpy roll of canvas.

"My tools," Maddie said reverently, undoing the leather straps around the tool roll. "How did you get—"

"Your granddad sends his love. He also said to ring him about any parts you need, and he'll post them straight away."

Maddie, still holding her tools in one hand, pulled Julie in for a kiss with the other. " _Thank you_." She backed Julie against the wall, and let the tools fall to the floor.

*

The noise: distressed moaning coalescing into a shout.

The promise: "I'm here. You're all right."

*

It took Maddie most of a month, but she got the motorcycle running smoothly. Julie pulled on the hat her mother had knit, Maddie twisted the throttle, and they were off. The wind whipping at their faces made speech pointless, but then the sounds escaping from Maddie weren't words. They shot across the heath, Julie's arms tight around Maddie's waist, and it wasn't flying, but it was enough.

Around noon, they settled into the lee of a ditch and unwrapped the sandwiches that Maddie had brought. Julie chuckled to herself; Maddie wondered if she was remembering a picnic outside Stockport, and the awkward love they had made there despite the rain. Of course, now they had the privacy of an enormous, draughty castle for such pursuits. She leaned in to kiss Julie's gorgeous grin, and quickly decided that it was time to head home.

*

Once a month, they scraped together the petrol for a ride. Julie somehow acquired her own goggles, and Maddie told her she looked like a dispatch rider. She wore a scarf to keep her growing hair out of her eyes, and Maddie told her she looked like a movie star—a Scottish movie star, for the scarf was Stuart tartan. Mostly, Maddie told her she was beautiful.

The heath turned purple with spring, and Maddie tore down the bike's engine and rebuilt it again. Then, finally, the news broke that troops had landed in France. By the end of the summer, Paris was free, and the Beaufort-Stuart women cried while Maddie burned with the certainty that she should _be there_ , should crawl back to the ATA even if that meant starting over as a third officer.

She startled when Julie sighed, "I wish we could be there."

"Me, too," Maddie admitted. "I wish I was there to help."

Julie laughed. "I wish I were there to celebrate." She frowned. "I know I can't"—she glanced at her mother—"do what I used to, but I am still a wireless operator."

"And I am still a pilot."

They stared at each other.

"The war can't last much longer," Julie said tentatively. "It would only be for a few months." She leaned in to whisper, "But what will we do about the dreams?"

Maddie shrugged. "Have them, and fight anyway. Besides"—she did a fair imitation of Julie's sly expression—"we can visit each other on leave."

Julie groaned. "All right, you've convinced me."

Their war wasn't over, after all.


End file.
